


Back Then

by Raptor_Redemption



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bittersweet, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Mercedes bakes homemade puppy treats, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a literal pile of puppies, the puppies love Emile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28512099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raptor_Redemption/pseuds/Raptor_Redemption
Summary: When Mercedes holds a puppy to her bosom, young and helpless, she thinks of Emile and how things could have been. Back then, life was different, but she will always love him the same.
Relationships: Jeritza von Hrym & Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Back Then

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HoneyNutFemios93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyNutFemios93/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Curse of Grigori Molokov XVIII](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766264) by [HoneyNutFemios93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyNutFemios93/pseuds/HoneyNutFemios93). 



> For Alex! 
> 
> While this fic's setting is based on a universe Alex created for an RPGMaker game, the fic can also be enjoyed without knowledge of this original universe. If you want more background about Alex's original characters in this 'verse, definitely check out the link above!
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/raptor_redeem) for my writing and fandom chat, including more fic requests and how to nab your own.
> 
> Enjoy the fluff. c:

At the bottom of the world, it’s rare to be blessed with the sight of new life. Mercedes has certainly seen her share of little penguins and even a baby seal or two, but in a place so devoid of the typical flora and fauna, witnessing the first weeks of some puppies’ existence has been one of the most memorable moments since she was stationed here.

One of Mercedes’ favorite sled dogs rests nearby, watching tiredly over her babies as they traipse along the blankets on the ground so near to the portable heaters which warm the space. “What a good mother,” she sighs aloud. She lies on her side, propped up on one elbow as she scratches behind the soft ears of the puppy nearest her. “You’ll grow up big and strong, won’t you? To think that you’ll be helping us to carry along our supplies someday.”

Emile sits cross legged a few feet away, and Mercedes laughs when all of the puppies save the one getting attention from her pile onto Emile’s lap at once. He may be in his twenties now, but he looks so childlike when he’s covered by three husky puppies barely three months old.

Perhaps it’s silly, but Mercedes can’t help but think about Emile when he was younger. He’d always been a shy child, uncertain about meetings with new visitors, especially the agents sent by the Australian welfare agencies. No matter how many times Mercedes had gently explained to him that those men and women were there to  _ help  _ Emile rather than harm him, the message wasn’t something that had been communicated with any success.

It didn’t matter how much their new home in Australia had tried to right his psyche--Emile’s early Belgian childhood had done its damage. Since then, an intruder--advocate or not--was nothing but a threat.

Mercedes is thankful for the quick little string of yips that breaks her away from her thoughts. One of the puppies in particular has grown inexplicably excited. Its tiny nub of a tail wags back and forth at hyper speed, and Mercedes’ heart fills with affection for this miniature creature and its attraction to Emile.

“I think he’s chosen you as his favorite,” Mercedes says warmly. She laughs when the runt clumsily puts his front paws against Emile’s stomach. “I believe he wants you to hold him.”

“Won’t I hurt him?”

Mercedes shakes her head. “No. Even little ones are tough.” Melancholy laces her smile. “We know that, don’t we?”

As she watches Emile gingerly lift the neediest of the puppies into his arms, she reminisces. It’s not uncommon that her brain fights to find dark places, as if there’s a part of her that thinks she never deserved to escape the environment she and Emile were raised in. The notion makes no sense, of course, but memories like the ones that Mercedes and Emile have so often twist rational thought into something hideous.

What would it be like if they had never left Belgium, if Emile had never been dragged halfway across the world at such a young age after escaping horrors no child should know? Mercedes wonders if either of them would be here now, if the darkness Emile harbors in his heart would be any less without the sudden move.

As she watches him, her darling little brother, Mercedes doesn’t even recognize that she’s gathered the puppy beside her into her arms. It shakes, a clumsy and uncoordinated motion, when a single tear slides from the corner of her eye, down her nose, and directly onto the puppy’s tiny little head. She holds it close, pressing it against her bosom, the same way she would hold Emile when he so often needed comfort as a child.

Then…

Is that a  _ smile  _ that lifts one corner of his lips?

No, of  _ course  _ they should have moved. Emile’s demons don’t define him, and would they both not be fighting a unique battle no matter the court’s decision all those years ago?

“Here.” Mercedes shifts so that the puppy she’s holding is cradled in one arm, resting comfortably in the crook of her elbow. With her free hand, she reaches into the pack beside her and produces a small tin--the one she uses for all of her baked goods. Today, there are homemade dog treats inside. She passes the tin to Emile. “They’re edible for humans, too,” she says. “I know you like bananas.”

Emile peers curiously into the tin and sniffs at one of the soft crackers before lifting one to his lips and biting off a corner. He chews thoughtfully, then hums when he swallows. “Some would think me crazy for eating dog food.”

“Yes, but it’s dog food that  _ I  _ made.” Mercedes knows well that Emile will eat anything she makes. “I know it’s probably not as sweet as you’d like, but--”

“No, I like it. Thank you.” There. That smile again! Mercedes watches Emile settle more comfortably into the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor as he fills his palms with treats and holds them out for the puppies to eat. Even the dog in Mercedes’ arms struggles free to have a taste for itself.

Emile feeds one treat to the runt who is already so attached to him, then pops another into his own mouth. To think that these puppies haven’t been eating solid food for very long and Mercedes is already spoiling them. If there’s one thing for certain, it’s that none of these dogs--not even the runt--will be underweight.

“I’m sorry, Mercedes. I didn’t mean to lure this little one away from you.” The single puppy that’s been nestled close to Mercedes for the duration of their visit paws at Emile for another taste.

“It’s quite all right. We couldn’t have those three hogging treats from their little sister, hm?”

No, she didn’t make a mistake back then. Emile huffs out a little cooing breaths at his new friends, and she knows for certain. Had Mercedes acted differently, had Emile been raised longer in that cursed house, he wouldn’t be the same.

_ This  _ Emile is the one Mercedes loves, including everything that comes with him. This is  _ her  _ Emile, and she wouldn’t trade him for the world.


End file.
